Ocean
by kbeto
Summary: "Ocean [ˈoʊ ʃən] noun. The entire body of salt water that covers more than 70 percent of the earth's surface." Tom learns the hard way that you should never ignore a mother's feeling of uneasiness. But could it be that something good can happen to him, when the luxurious life he always had is snatched away from him? Flones, rated T, you know the drill. Table #1, entry #5.


_Disclaimer: 0% money, 0% ownership, 100% feels._

_A/N: Keep in mind that I know almost __**nothing**__ about planes and other things, so must of it is just a stretch based on some information taken from wikipedia. I just needed a bit of it for the plot and nothing else._

_**FLOYNTERXxx **__I have no idea if you'll be reading this, but thanks for your reviews! It's always a pleasure to entertain people with my writing. You should consider getting yourself an account! ;)_

Ocean

The day Tom so eagerly awaited had finally arrived and he couldn't seem to keep his excitement under control, double checking every single detail for his trip to another continent on a plane. Being the heir of a successful family like the Fletchers could be a weight too heavy to carry, reason why the young man decided on getting a license, so he could just fly away from responsibilities that didn't appeal to him as much as his family would like it to.

"I still don't think this is a good idea, dear," Mrs. Fletcher voiced her concern for the 37th time that morning. She almost had had a heart attack when her son first told her about his plan of a self-discovery trip for a few months.

"Mum, calm down. I already told you everything is fine." Tom walked over to where his mum stood, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug and kissing her atop the head. "It's not like the plane is going to explode or anything."

"You can't really blame her, can you? It's not everyday that your first-born decides on travel the world to find his ideal girl. Or boy."

"Nan, I already told you I'm straight," he rolled his eyes at his grandmother standing by the door.

"So is spaghetti before you cook it," the elder woman laughed. "All I'm saying is that you're young and there's nothing wrong–"

"Yeah, yeah. I have to go, James is waiting for me," he grabbed his main bag, pecking both women on the cheek. "Tell Dad I call him later, yeah?" And he got in the elevator to their garage, where James, the chauffeur, awaited to take him to his plane.

~#~

"I swear that if I survive this predicament, I'm going to listen to _everything_ Mum says!" Tom tried his best to keep himself under control, despite an awful amount of smoke coming off his right and the aircraft steadily losing altitude.

It was evident that something _very_ wrong was going on, but landing on water is not even an option when you're _not_ piloting a seaplane. Giving up completely on his futile attempts to work his way for any sign of land nearby, Tom put the autopilot on and rushed to fetch a parachute and save his life, but it was already too late, as the small plane crashed violently against the big, blue body of water below.

~#~

"Can you hear me? Come on, you can't die on me!" A voice rang in Tom's ears, although all he could see was darkness. He could also feel something warm against his mouth.

"Am I dead?" He looked around to locate the source of the unknown voice that seemed to be so close, yet so far. "Where are you? I can't see you!"

"Just open your eyes, you fucking twat," the voice chuckled. Tom felt mildly offended, but did as ordered, big blue eyes entering his field of vision, coupled with a wide smile and dark curls soaked wet, droplets hitting his forehead.

As anyone would react to a complete stranger being so close to their face, Tom pushed the stranger – who was practically naked, save for some sort of thong – away from him, scrambling back till he hit his head on a huge palm tree. It was a miracle that he hadn't got his skull open or anything.

"What's wrong with ya? That's no way to thank the guy who saved your wet arse from drowning, ya know?" The brunet arched his back and kicked his legs in the air, propelling himself to a stand position.

Tom watched such a scene for a moment – it was sort of impressive seeing someone do that, reminded him of watching Power Rangers or any other similar _tokusatsu_ –, suddenly remembering that he had no idea _where_ he was and _who_ could the flexible stranger be.

"Who are you? Where are we? Oh my God, am I dead?" He looked around quickly, sea and sand till his where his eyes could see.

"You hit your head too hard or are you always this stupid?" The boy folded his arms over his chiselled chest, walking over to Tom. "I'm Danny, this is my island, and–"

"Ouch! What was that for?" Tom rubbed his cheek, giving the Danny guy his best death glare for pinching him so hard.

"–you wouldn't feel pain if you were dead. Now, it would be polite if you told me your name," Danny chuckled again, crouching to get to Tom's eye level.

"Sorry, I'm Thomas," he turned his head away, feeling his face getting all hot from their closeness. It didn't seem like Danny grasped the concept of _personal space._ "I guess I should thank you? My Dad will give you a good reward for your good deeds."

Danny started guffawing like Tom just told him the funniest joke in the whole universe. He fell on his arse laughing, doubling himself and tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. Tom protested to know what was so funny, and upon being royally ignored, he started slapping Danny, until it turned into a wrestling match and he found himself pinned against wet sand.

"Good luck getting out of here, I've lived in this island for roughly 10 years since my ship sank," he sniffled, finally getting over his fit of laughter.

~#~

"That can't be happening!" Tom dropped to his knees, repeatedly punching the sand beneath him in frustration. Danny took him to where he could see the spot where his plane crashed and after some (major) reluctance from the brunet's part, they swam there to try to save anything among the wreckage, finding almost nothing intact and/or useful.

"Told ya," Danny just shrugged. "I can teach you the basics for surviving, if you want."

"Thanks, but I don't plan on staying– Oh my God, what are you doing?" Tom turned to face away from Danny, who was stark naked, wringing his thong dry.

"You don't expect me to stay in wet clothes, do ya?" he cocked an eyebrow, as if pointing something painfully obvious. "How many clothes you think I can still fit in after 10 years?"

"That doesn't mean you can just get naked whenever you want!"

"Yes, I can?" he snorted in a rhetorical tone, clothing himself and tying the piece firmly around his waist. "Just remember I got here first, you're the invader."

"You're a prick! My father will hear about this and buy this island!"

"And you're a spoiled brat."

~#~

The day passed fast, and the more Tom talked to Danny, the more he knew he had to leave 'his' God-forsaken island as soon as possible. They simply couldn't even carry a simple conversation for a prolonged period without throwing slurs at each other – mainly Danny saying how Tom knew nothing about real life and was a spoiled, rich kid.

From all his belongings Tom could recover from the sea, he still had most of his clothes, a hammock, some chocolate, and a few books. The waterproof bag his friend Harry got him last Christmas has proved to be a very useful present, indeed.

"I wonder if they already know that I'm missing," Tom sighed, for the first time letting the fact that he may never see his best mate or family ever again sink in. Danny said he had been himself stranded on the small island for a little more than 10 years, what could make him so certain that he would get out so easily?

"Not my problem or anything, but I should probably tell you that a storm is coming," Danny dangled his legs from a branch high above Tom's head. "You can crash at mine, till you get yourself a descent shelter."

"Thanks, but no thanks. The Fletcher family doesn't get scared of a bit of water," he put his nose in the air, a little bit snobby, but he still had some pride in himself.

"Okay, dickhead. I'll just remember this when I tell you 'I told you so'," he grinned, climbing the tree and jumping his way back further into the island. Tom was almost sure the boy had some monkey blood in him, or was even some sort of real life Tarzan, only that he didn't use vines.

"Like I would buy that bullshit about storm. What's a bit of rain to a British man, right?"

~#~

And he was oh so wrong. The storm came and Tom finally understood what Danny was trying to warn him about, wind strong enough to rock his hammock back and forth, rendering useless any attempt of keeping the tarpaulin in place, soaking him to the bones in very cold water.

"Oi! Thomas prick! Are ya sure ya don't wanna come with me?" A hooded figure screamed from between palms trees swaying dangerously in the mighty gust. Tom looked up, trying to keep the rain from his eyes and gritting teeth together to keep himself from trembling. No way in hell he would admit defeat.

"I'm fine, rubbish Tarzan! Leave me alone! I'm–"

A lightning tore through the night sky, felling one of the trees used as support by Tom and setting it on fire. Trapped beneath the burning tree, Tom started panicking trying to get himself free, but noticing excruciating pain on his right ankle, he realised too late he had sprained it when he fell.

His life started flashing before his eyes, where he died before getting a chance of finding true love, when something jumped behind him with some sort of staff and struggled to move the tree away with a lever. It didn't take too long, and before Tom knew it, he was being carried away from the fire and the rain, warmth coming off the toned pectoral pressed against his cheek.

"You're not only stubborn, you're a bit retarded, too," Danny pulled the hood from his face, dropping Tom on a leaf mat, giving him the same look Mrs. Fletcher would give him whenever he did something wrong.

They were inside a comfortable cave, decorated with with furniture made of stone, torches illuminating the ambient, and a rustic fireplace. It was as cosy as a cave could ever be, but there was some charm to it, as Tom looked around, seeing some childish paintings on the wall.

"Thank–" Danny cut Tom in his speech, yanking the blond's shirt off and proceeding to do the same to his his shorts. "What are you doing? Oh my God, you're a pervert! You weren't able to resist my sexiness, and now you want to have your wicked way with me, right?"

"You. are. hopeless. Truly hopeless," Danny shook his head in disbelief, his face the very definition of incredulity. "If you stay in these drenched clothes you'll get pneumonia and _die_, you rich moron! And I'm not _that _desperate to try a move on somebody like you!"

"Easy for you to say, when you're semi naked and taking my trousers off!"

"Maybe I should have left you to turn into barbecue outside," Danny sighed, but continued his task until he got Tom completely naked. "Wear this and let's go to sleep, there's not much we have to do after the sun goes down."

"This is... revealing." Tom frowned at the clothe in his hand that resembled immensely the one Danny was wearing. "I could just go fetch my bag– Okay, maybe it's not a good idea," he winced, feeling his ankle remember him of his accident earlier.

"I would sell my _soul_ to get somebody to take you back home." Danny scooped Tom in his arms and dropped him in his double bed – made of stone, but it had a beaten up mattress, making it more comfortable than one would think.

"I don't think–"

"That's your problem, you don't think. Now shut up," Danny finished changing Tom's clothes and covered them both in blankets, with him lying on top of Tom to keep him warm; his pale skin was cold as ice and would be a miracle if he didn't wake up with a bad cold next morning.

"Erm... you're sure you're not a pervert? I mean, this is weird, two dudes (who barely speak) lying together almost naked– and I'm pretty sure that thing brushing against my knee is your–"

"Belt up and go to sleep, Thomas. Before I throw you out."

"Wow, rude!" Tom pouted, but did as told, even if it was weird to have a total stranger burying his face in his neck. Although, he had to admit it, the feeling was sort of comforting.

~#~

"Wow, you didn't even last one day, Tommy. All you needed was getting cooked for a bit," Nan Fletcher appeared on the door to Danny's house/cave seeing the boys tangled naked in bed.

Tom woke up with his hair clung to his head, inhaling sharply and trying to calm himself from the terrible nightmare he had. He looked around, but couldn't find Danny, so he got up and limped to the cave entrance. It was already morning, as sunshine coming through cracks on the rustic bamboo door let him know.

In the distance, he could see Danny carrying a bag on his back and a tray with fruits and fish on it. Tom suddenly felt a bit ashamed for thinking ill of the freckled boy, but they knew nothing about each other besides their names. And Danny wasn't making things easier calling him 'clueless', 'spoiled' and all those things.

"Morning, Thomas," Danny smiled widely when he saw Tom by the door. "I brought you some breakfast and your stuff. Some of it got burned to a crisp, though."

"Thanks, Danny. And I'm sorry for the rough start we had, you not only saved my life once, but twice the same day!"

"Nah, don't mention it," he scratched his nose, looking a bit embarrassed.

Tom felt his stomach do a little flip inside him, but dismissed it as his body starving for some food; two near-death experiences and a sore ankle would do that to any person. He took the tray from Danny's hand and they both sat down around the coffee table (that was also the dinner table, since the cave wasn't that spacious), chatting and eating, and for the first time getting through a whole conversation without insulting one another.

"After breakfast I'll teach you how to fish and hunt," Danny chugged some coconut water down. "We need to polish your skills or you'll be easy prey for the men-eating dwarves in this island."

"There's a cannibal tribe here? And you only tell me that _now_?"

"No, but better safe than sorry, yeah?"

"I hate you."

Their banter turned into food war – not actual food, just banana peel and the such – and soon they were once more rolling around, wrestling like kids. It didn't look like Tom would win their match, and it turned into reality when Danny pinned him arms down, both panting with stupid grins on their faces.

For a small fraction of time, Tom got lost inside those blue orbs, looking at them in the same manner one would look at the ocean – wanting to dive into it–. It took him a few seconds to register that Danny had called his name and asked if he was okay, though he shrugged it off as still being just a bit sleepy.

"_I'm not– That's wrong!"_ He smiled back, trying to block his grandmother's voice out of his head.

~#~

"Let's just say I'll provide the food and you do the house chores."

"Since when I turned into your particular maid?"

"Since you have zero skill for hunting, fishing, or anything, really," Danny walked towards the shore, sinking his spear in the sand and plopping down spread-eagled.

"Not _zero_, I _almost_ caught that last one!" Tom sat by his side, doing the same thing to his own spear. His ankle was good as new thanks to Danny's help and some weird ass herbs.

Danny just hummed a wordless response, closing his eyes and feeling the sun wash over his body. Unbeknown to him, Tom was watching how his chest would rise and fall with every breath, the mop of curls plastered to his freckled skin, and how the water pooling around his navel would make his abs glisten against the morning sunlight.

"_What am I even doing, I can't fall for someone just because they saved my life twice in a row!"_ The blond shook his head, trying to focus his attention on the crashing waves at distance.

Maybe Danny sensed something, or maybe he just didn't like silence for prolonged time – Tom didn't care, he was glad to occupy his thoughts with other things than a insanely fit body lying next to him –, but he began talking about his past. Where he was born, his family, what it was like to find himself stranded on a island in the middle of nowhere. Anything and everything, really.

Tom, who so far grew up used to being the centre of attention everywhere he went with his family, for once was genuinely interested in something else than his many extra curricular activities or the latest gadget popular among people his age; his sole attention was Danny's and only his.

They talked for a few more hours, till Tom's stomach growled and alerted them it was already lunchtime. Danny laughed at the boy's embarrassment, saying he could be _"cute when nobody's watching"_, which made Tom blush even more furiously. He then got up in the same superhero fashion like when they first met, and offered Tom his hand. They ran back to the cave, hand in hand, where Danny would get his bow to hunt a bird for them later.

~#~

A week passed, and the boys were now living a pretty domestic routine: Danny would provide food, whilst Tom would do most of the chores and search for fruits. Inevitably – even if he tried hard to resist –, Tom found himself gravitating towards Danny, with each passing day the distance becoming shorter and shorter, and he knew he would soon have to make a decision; the matter wasn't something he could just ignore.

He would make a solid resolution of staying as friends and that everything was a sick fairytale fantasy his mind made up in such a stressful situation, but then, Danny would smile at him like he was the most important thing in the world, and it would all crumble down on the big puddle of goo that he formerly called his heart.

Every night Tom would fight his urge to just reach out and trace constellations of the freckles on Danny's muscled back. They still got to share a bed at the end of the day, but nowhere near the same way they did when Tom arrived, and that thought made his heart secretly ache. He longed for the rough touch of those calloused hands, the warmth emanated from those arms; he missed Danny altogether, even though he never really could call him 'his', in the first place.

"What ya thinking?" the question in a familiar voice pulled Tom back to earth and from his own several thoughts running amok.

"Nothing special, I was just thinking that I'm starting to miss my family," he lied. There was no way he could just tell what was really bothering him. "It's another thing knowing that I may not see them again."

"I don't blame you. At least I had my grandpa with me for most of the time," he placed a large hand on Tom's shoulder, giving it a sympathetic squeeze.

Danny had told Tom about how he and Grandpa Jones were the only ones who survived the shipwreck. For some time it was just the two of them, but the years of living in the wild and age caught up to him, and Danny found himself alone, after his biggest hero passed away.

"I know what can cheer you up!" He suddenly snapped his fingers, rummaging through a pile of clothes and yanking a thong that he wrapped around Tom's eyes.

"For the love of everything holy, tell me this one is clean." Tom wrinkled his nose below his newly acquired blindfold.

"Would it be that bad if I say I wore this yesterday," Danny breathed in Tom's ear, oblivious to the goosebumps caused. He then proceeded to guide his room mate outside and deep into the woods. They walked for something like 10 minutes, and by the time Tom regained his vision, he could hear water running and smell wet ground.

In front of them there was a small rock pond, hidden beneath shadows from tall trees towering above. Danny just smiled upon seeing Tom's mouth hang open in awe, taking both of their clothes off and shoving his friend into the water – reason why they would started an aquatic war – and throwing himself in next.

They horsed around for some time and were almost getting out, when Tom slipped and almost fell. He closed his eyes waiting for the impact, but luckily Danny caught him, a smile again upon his face. And that was when Tom threw all his inhibitions through the window and kissed his personal Tarzan square on the lips.

"Oh my God, Danny, I'm sorry! I don't know what came over me and–"

"Shut it, Fletcher. I was dying to do that myself." Danny broke their second kiss, pecking twice before pulling away and beaming at Tom. "It seemed like a _perverted_ move to snog you, naked, in the woods."

"You can't say I was _wrong_, Pervy Danny. Luring fragile, innocent me to your pond of love to take advantage of my body!"

"'Pond of love' is awful, don't say that again." They kissed one more time, now fully aware of their feelings for each other. Feelings that would grow as large as the ocean itself.

~Fin~


End file.
